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Michaela and Slade pulled into the Busy Burger parking lot amid a dozen ambulances from Richmond, Henrico and Chesterfield. There were at least eight police cars. Mic watched as paramedics rolled a stretcher from the restaurant, a blanket covering the small body.
"Oh my God, Slade, how many of these children are dead? I was hoping they‘d just be sick for a few days," she said, her eyes big as saucers. Angel stood by her side, the bristles of his fur sticking out. He knew something was seriously wrong. He sniffed the stretcher as it went by and growled.
Slade McKane was angry. His face had turned to stone. Who the hell poisons children? What kind of monster is this? He put his arm around Michaela and said, "I don't know, but there's Stoddard, and there’s the chief. The big brass is out. That’ll slow us down for sure,” he predicted and rolled his eyes. “We’ll never get anything done with the chief here. He’ll watch us like a hawk.”
“Yeah, no question,” Mic agreed as she noticed the group of brass from the Richmond Police Department. “The mayor too. How’d these people get here so fast?”
“Come on, let's go find out how bad this is," he said as he urged her forward.
Stoddard's face was red with anger and filled with grief as he saw Slade and Mic approach Command Center. Mic knew he saw his grandchildren in the bodies of the children. He shook his head. "This is bad, really bad. We’ve got three dead kids and I don't how many others critically ill. The ambulances just keep coming."
Slade met Stoddard’s eyes and said, "Lieutenant, we'll get these SOBs. I promise you we will. Tell me what's going on. How many kids are down and how'd it happen?"
Stoddard looked at Slade and said, “Detective McKane, you know Chief Herndon, right?” Stoddard said as he looked at the two men.
Slade saluted the chief. “Yes, sir. Good afternoon, sir. This is tragic.”
The chief nodded and said, “Nothing good about this afternoon and yeah, it’s as bad as it gets. A new Richmond monster at work.” He turned his head to greet Michaela. “Ms. McPherson, what brings you out today?” he asked pleasantly, pleased to see Michaela. He bent down and patted Angel. “Ah, our hero canine. He looks good,” he said as he grinned at Mic.
Mic smiled at Chief Herndon, an avid lover of Welsh rarebit, Guinness, Celtic music, and Biddy’s pub. Herndon was in his late fifties, fit as a fiddle with a full head of white hair and a tanned, lined face. He played a lot of golf. He was well respected by his men but had enemies, as any police chief, would be in this day and age. Mic and the chief knew each other from way back. They’d worked homicide together when Mic was a newly promoted detective. She reached down and patted Angel, “Yeah, he’s doin’ great. Still has a little arthritis in his hip that bothers him in bad weather, but other than that, he’s as good as he ever was,” she admitted as she squatted and looked into Angel’s eyes. The dog literally smiled at her. “How’r things with you, sir?”
“Well,” he said as he looked around. “They were going well until this broke. What a maniac,” he explained as anger flashed across his face.
Michaela stood up and looked into Herndon’s eyes. “Yeah, this is bad, sir,” she agreed.
“I heard you were investigating the death of General Rothrock’s mother. That true?” the Police Chief asked as he squinted into the sun.
Michaela whistled. “Wow, word gets around. Yeah. I just got the job last night,” she said as she flashed him her million-watt smile.
The chief laughed. “Of course I know. Heard first thing this morning. Congressman Lee called me almost before I got outta bed. He was on his way back to D.C. and I was first on his list, I guess. He wanted to make sure I gave you everything you needed,” he said with a short laugh.
Mic nodded and laughed. “Yeah, I heard he gets a lot done early now since they assigned him a driver. Kathryn says he spends the two-hour commute on his cell phone hassling folks and ordering people around.”
“Yeah, well I do believe that,” the chief said with a smile. “I do the same thing. We call it efficiency.”
Slade shuffled from one foot to another and felt like an outsider. The least they could do is include me in the conversation. But he controlled himself. He knew Mic and Herndon had a special relationship.
“You got anything?” the chief asked.
She shook her head. “Nah, gonna see the ME this morning to get results of the post. Then I’m going to see Dr. Peggy Grey for lunch. Later, I’m goin’ to meet with a group of Feds working on the case. Congressman got me an invite to that meeting,” she grinned.
Chief Herndon scratched his head. "Yeah. Peggy Grey. Hadn’t thought about her. She’s probably the best we’ve got. We'll all be meeting with the Federal forensic team. I’ll see you there," Chief Herndon informed her. "This is now a federal case," he said as he gestured widely with his arms. “The fibbies have invited a couple of profilers from Quantico.”
Mic nodded, "Yeah, so I heard. That's fine with me. We’ve got to get this guy soon. If they can profile him, I’m all about it."
The chief turned to Slade and said sharply, "What about you, McKane, you willing to work with the Feds?"
Slade nodded, "Yes, sir. I'm ready to do anything I can to stop these crimes."
The chief smiled and said, "Carry on, then. Get this creep. I gotta get downtown for a press conference. Can't wait," he added sarcastically as he signaled for his driver. He turned to Lieutenant Stoddard and said, “Keep me posted, Steve. I want to know everything.” Moments later, his entourage surrounded him and he was in his car backing out of the Busy Burger’s parking lot.
Stoddard pointed to the ambulances. He turned to Slade and Michaela and said, "Let's go get an update."
Slade was flushed. “Let me get Mic’s permission since the chief loves her,” he said, a caustic edge to his voice as he glared at her. Mic knew he was mad about what he perceived as a slight from the Richmond Chief of Police.
Mic gave him a reproachful look and said, "The chief and I go back years. Years before you ever came to Virginia so give it a rest. Chief Herndon was my partner when I came to homicide." She smiled at him and added, "Don't be so touchy. You’re supposed to be a tough Cajun cop."
Stoddard relaxed as they walked over. “It’s about time you got here, Mic. We’ve got a busload of elementary school kids who were visiting the state capital. Most are from Southside Virginia. A couple are from North Carolina but attend school on the Virginia side of Lake Gaston.”
“Yeah,” Mic said, “So, now it’s a federal crime. That’s what the chief told us.”
Stoddard rolled his eyes. He hated working with the Feds. “Crimes like this would be a federal crime anyway. But to answer your question, we've got two states and the FBI is involved. They’re sending their profiling unit down," he announced, "and honestly, we need all the help we can get.” Stoddard’s eyes blazed and the muscles in his face were frozen over gritted teeth.
"What happened?" Michaela asked. "Does it look like poison - like Camilla and the others?"
Stoddard nodded. His eyes were dark with anger. "It seems so. There’s a poison forensics team here. They’re going over the restaurant with a fine tooth comb and sampling everything. So far, they think the poison was in the chocolate milkshakes. The kids had different meals, but they all had chocolate milkshakes."
"So the chocolate milkshake is the common denominator. How many are dead so far?" Slade asked.
Stoddard’s gaze moved over to the ambulances. "Right now, there are three, two girls and a boy. I think there are others who might not make it, though. The paramedics said a couple had stopped breathing.”
Mic felt sick as she watched first responders from the last ambulance load up the last few kids and head to the hospital. The restaurant’s parking lot was packed with news trucks, reporters, parents and oglers. She reached down to pat Angel when she felt his fur bristle. He had alerted. He must see something. Mic scanned the area quickly.
“Slade, Lieutenant, look at Angel. He senses something. I wonder if the perp is standing around somewhere watching all of this – the results of his handiwork - and gloating,” Michaela wondered aloud as she peered through the crowd.
She was interrupted by a young male officer in blue who ran over to them “Lieutenant, Slade, get over here. We’ve got a lead,” the breathless young officer gasped. “There’s a kid who lent his shirt to some guy who offered to work for him for a few hours.”
“You got a description?” Stoddard asked quickly.
“Yes, sir. Come over here,” the young officer pointed.
Slade and Mic walked with the officer into the Busy Burger where police sat with a teenager who was scared out of his mind. The kid had dirty blond hair and stuttered. He had tears rolling down his acne covered face. Mic’s heart went out to him.
The young man saw sympathy in Michaela's eyes and said, "It's all my fault, Lieutenant. It's all my fault those kids are dead or sick."
“Tell us what you know, son,” Mic said in a soft voice as she rubbed Angel’s neck. It was bristled and Angel was panting. She knew Angel sensed something. She turned to McKane and said, “Take him outside and give him his lead. I think our guy is out there somewhere close.”
Slade nodded and took Angel’s lead. “Yeah, and loving all the chaos and attention,” he said as he spoke to Angel. “Come on, boy, you’re in charge,” he ordered the dog.